


Teldryn and Tin

by Fermentation_Pro



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Freeform, Skyrim - Freeform, Thalmor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-19 05:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10633503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fermentation_Pro/pseuds/Fermentation_Pro
Summary: Teldryn and Tenuviel make their escape from the Thalmor.





	1. The Escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KD_Bryson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KD_Bryson/gifts).



Teldryn grabbed the weakened Altmer by the back of the head and slammed her head into the Talos statue in the stone alcove. Her blood splattered and sprayed, drops landing on the goggles of his chitin visor. He took the helmet off and surveyed the carnage around him, twelve Thalmor corpses lie on the blood soaked dirt. Sero sat down on a stone bench and removed his helmet thinking about the sons, daughters, mother, and fathers he just slaughtered. After a time he rose to his feet and began preparing to loot the corpses, when another Thalmor Agent ran out from the underbrush and cast a paralysis spell on him, locking him in place only for him to collapse and slip into unconsciousness.

When Sero awoke he found himself stripped to his underclothes, his bloodstained chitin armour scattered around the room he was being held in. Still woozy from the effects of the paralysis spell he looked around and concluded that he was being held in a Thalmor controlled Atmoran ruin. He heard the whisper of wind come from outside the chamber he was trapped in, and felt the cool air run across his scarred flesh.  
After hours of futilely trying to escape from his Thalmor captors the creaking of an old cell door reached his ears and he saw one of the golden skinned bastard turn a corner to face him. The Altmer had shock magic in his hand and hatred in his eyes as he calmly walked up to the imprisoned Dunmer. “I will be enjoying this,” said the Thalmor, then he placed his hand on Teldryn’s stomach and let loose volley after volley of shock spells directly onto his skin. When the Altmer finally pulled his hand away Sero’s stomach was a burnt, bleeding, twisted ruin of flesh, the Altmer looked up at the Dunmer expecting to see a visage of pain and fear, but instead saw the same disapproving glare he had when he walked in.

The High Elf was truly furious now and he stormed out of the room, “I will be back and you will regret that your whore mother ever gave birth to you,” he screamed as he strut away in a fit of rage.

Days passed and the High Elf torturer hadn't returned, but once a day a Bosmeri servant had come in and gave him food and water, he never spoke to her but she would ramble to him as she gave him the water. He had learned that her name was Tenuviel, though she went by Tin among her friends, she had been a servant of the Thalmor for what felt like a lifetime, but had truly only been three or four years. She walked with such soft footsteps they could only be heard by somebody she was nearly on top of, and barely even then. Tin had been around the Altmeri masters long enough they had begun to trust and her and no longer required her to have a guard making sure she wouldn't escape, they would come to regret that decision.

One day, the Altmeri torturer finally returned, and in his hands was a vial of some sort of poison, a craftsman’s hammer, and twenty Moonstone nails, sharpened to a fine point. “I’m going to enjoy these very much,” he said, taking the stopper off the bottle of poison, “I’m going to coat these in poison, and hammer them underneath your fingers and toenails. I will relish hearing your screams and pleas for mercy.” The torturer grabbed his hand and got ready to hammer in the first poison tipped nail, when Teldryn called on the power of his Chimer ancestors and enwreathed himself in flame, burning his torturers hand. The Thalmor recoiled, his hand smoking and stinging, “Oh you will truly regret that my friend.” He tore of Sero’s underclothes, exposing his naked body to the torturer, and the small Bosmer hidden in the room’s corner, knife in hand and ready to strike when the call came.

The torturer waited for the flames around the Dunmer’s skin to fade, sputter, and die out, when this happened he took the poisoned moonstone nail and placed it just beneath Teldryn’s manhood, “This will be fun,” said the Thalmor.  
“You won't live long enough to strike me,” Teldryn growled, the first word he spoke to anybody but Tin in months. Upon this phrase being uttered by the nude mercenary, Tenuviel lunged from the darkness and plunged the blade into his torturer’s thigh, he let out a grunt and turned around, shock magic primed in his hand. “Insolent bitch! I'll have you hanged for that!” He was near ready to fire off the spell and kill Tin when a heavy metal chain crashed against his arm, sending him flying. He turned around to see Teldryn stand there, taking off the last pieces of his metal binds still attached. “Now, this is going to be fun,” Teldryn said. He picked up the hammer and quickly smashed it onto one of the Thalmor’s knees, shattering it after the third blow, Teldryn then stepped over the sobbing, crippled torturer and picked up the near-full vial of poison, Sero kneeled down, digging one knee into his torturer’s chest and forced his mouth open, Teldryn then shoved the head of the vial into his mouth and forced him to drink the poison, the effect was near instant. The High Elf quickly began screaming, red foam leaking out of his mouth and blood seeping from the corners of his eyes, the blood pooled into his eyes, with nowhere else to go, the Altmer screamed in pain, his body seizing and spawning and his own blood blinding him.  
  
When his body finally lie still, a tomb for his final resting place seemed fitting. Teldryn Sero stood, still clad in naught but skin, scars, and the ghosts of his past both literal and metaphorical. He looked around for Tin to see her standing where she was last, hands covering her tightly shut eyes. “Tin,” he called in his hoarse and shaking voice “we need to leave, now, I have a place on Solstheim we can stay and a boat captain in Windhelm that owes me a favour.” Teldryn put his hand reassuringly on Tin’s shoulder, then they left the room with the torturer’s corpse. First things first they needed to find new clothes for themselves, a naked Dunmer and a Bosmer in rags would likely be slaughtered on site within the secret Thalmor encampment.

It only took a few moments for them to find some more suitable clothing, along with Teldryn’s chitin armour. They snuck their way out of the tomb under the guise of Sero being taken as a prisoner to the Thalmor Embassy, and that night, they escaped and ran off into the frozen wilds of Tamriel’s frozen north, Skyrim...


	2. An Undecided Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fate of one of the escapees may be cut short.

The fugitive Mer ran as fast as they could through the heavy blankets of snow. With nothing but the clothes on their backs for warmth they needed to find some sort of shelter, anything would do for the two desperate escapees, a cabin, a cave, or just anywhere the snow wouldn't cover their shoulders and weigh them down. 

The two finally found a small cave to take refuge in until the blizzard passed. For three days they survived off tough, chewy roots that Tenuviel dug from the ground and snow that Teldryn melted to stave off dehydration. When the blizzard finally ended and they could leave their temporary shelter and continue their journey the going seemed just as slow as before due to Teldryn’s chitin armour weighing him down. Tenuviel however could walk with the grace of a dancer over the crystal-white snow, leaving hardly a trace of a footprint. “Hehe,” she giggled, “too slow! You can't catch me!” She bounded across the snow. “Get back here! You'll hurt yourself!” He ran as fast as he could after her, melting the snow with flame magic trying to catch her. 

With a shout Tin fell into a pit, she screamed and cried for help, her pleas fading with each call out. When Teldryn arrived he saw her lying at the bottom of a relatively shallow pit with a piece of ancient Nord architecture sticking through her side. Blood that was black as night welled from the grievous wound and he knew that it had completely penetrated her live. Without help she would die a horrible, painful death. Teldryn clambered into the pit, he lifted her off the spike and her screams of pain filled his eyes with tears like he hadn't shed since his parents’ death in the Red Year. He laid her down on the icy stone floor and was horrified at how much blood was pooling beneath her lithe frame. “No! I won't lose anyone else!” He screamed. He cast the best healing spell he could on on her ravaged liver and used a flame spell to cauterise it. It would buy her time but if not brought to a temple or healer she would die. 

Teldryn summoned a flame atronach and commanded it to clear the snow in the direction they had been headed, it levitated forth, its own natural heat and the spells it was casting melting the snow with ease. Teldryn carried a half-conscious Tin in his arms, silent tears streaking his worn, ragged cheeks as he listened to the crackle of the atronach and the ragged breathing of his dying companion. After running for hours he saw a tower on a mountain in the distance, and saw a faint trail of smoke like one would find coming from an inn or cabin. Sero pushed himself harder than he had in his entire career as a blade for hire. 

When he finally arrived at the source of the smoke he recognised the Hold Capital of Dawnstar, he breathed a sigh of relief, he knew the court wizard Madena and she owed him a favour for dealing with some troublesome ice wraiths a few years back. He ran into the town just as his atronach faded back into Oblivion.”Out of my way!” He barged past a guard and into the White Hall and into the room Madena did her work and studies in.

“Madena,” he said with a shaky breath, “I’m calling in that favour, now.” He laid Tenuviel on the empty table without letting Madena get a word out. “Save her, please.” He pleaded, fear creeping up his throat.  
“What happened?” She began preparing salves and healing incantations.  
“She fell into a pit and a spike pierced her liver, I did the best I could but I know only a basic spell, save her Madena. I need you to save her.” Teldryn collapsed to his knees, helmeted head resting against the table.   
“Teldryn, wait outside while I work.” Madena forced Sero to wait in the Jarl’s hall while she tried to save Tin, whose wound had opened up when she was set on the table and was already bleeding profusely. As he exited the room all he could hear was the soft dripping of blood hitting the floor. 

After a few hours a clearly strained Madena opened the door and stepped out, her hands and the front of her robe bloodsoaked, beads of sweat falling from her forehead. She looked at Teldryn, her eyes filled with fear, and a grave look appeared beneath his chitin helm. “Teldryn…”


	3. A Cold Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, wasn't feeling that spark but I needed to update this.

Teldryn looked up at Madena with fear in his heart, nobody gave good news with that look in their eyes. There was too much blood, she didn't make it he knew it. He couldn't save another one. The world felt like it had slowed down, his heart dropped, he felt empty, he felt numb. He didn't want to feel anything anymore. “Teldryn,” said Madena, “she'll be alright. She'll make it.” When the grizzled Dunmeri mercenary heard that it hit him like a giant’s club to the gut. She was going to live, he did it. “When can I see her?” He asked, voice hoarse. “Tomorrow.” Madena looked down at the blood all over her hands and robe, the stench of it would never leave, “I want to keep her here to make sure it doesn't open up again and to keep watch for infection, get some rest Teldryn.”

At that, Teldryn left the Jarl’s Longhouse and went to the Windpeak Inn to get a room for the night. He took the room furthest from the entrance, bought the strongest liquor they had, and decided he would get piss drunk. 

The next day Sero woke up on the floor of the inn, lying in a pool of his own sick. He groaned and stood up, his head pounding like a thousand drums. “That was a poor decision, Sero, a very poor one.” He stumbled out of his room and threw some Septims on the counter as an apology for making a filthy mess of his rented room. When he stepped out into the daylight the sun would have blinded him if not for the goggles attached to his chitin helm. “Damn sun,” Teldryn said as he walked over to the White Hall to see Tenuviel. Upon his arrival he saw her staring at the magnificent hunting and war bows that hung in the main hall of the longhouse. “Don’t even think about it,” he told her, “you so much as touch those and the guards will have your head, and there's nothing I could or would do about it.”

Tin dramatically sighed and hung her head, moping away from the weapons. “Thank you, for saving me.” She hugged him close despite the edges of his chestplate poking her face.


End file.
